


Shootin' Hoops

by Shatterpath



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-17
Updated: 2003-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:49:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Lil:  Sam and Cassie shoot hoops and discuss Life lessons. Preferably ending with a hug or ice cream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shootin' Hoops

++ Cassie ++

 

(6-17-03)

 

"Come on, old lady," I can't help but tease, dribbling the basketball negligently and grinning. Hunched over, hands braced on her knees, Sam glares for a moment before straightening up.

 

"Sass all you want, junior, but you're still two points down."

 

We've been burning off some anxious energy for going on two hours now. With escrow closing on the house and Fawn off on vacation with Darya, Karen and their kids, my leaving for college an imminent event and my eighteenth birthday things are, at best, weird. We'll get the call today or tomorrow with the news of whether or not the loan will go through. 

 

This forever home has turned out to not be forever at all. But I don't really mind, because the building doesn't matter. The things don't matter. The people will always be my home.

 

Dodging Sam's feint, I dance around, intent on the orange hoop bolted above the garage door. I couldn't say what perverse urge possessed me to challenge Sam to a basketball game on the driveway. There was the orange ball amidst all the junk stored in the garage, where I'd been searching for that cool old trunk of Mom's to swipe for my stuff.

 

Much of my tension has bled away in the summer heat, in the sweat that soaks my shirt and the waistband of my shorts. Thoughts of my sweaty shoes and socks gross me out, so I avoid them. My leap at the basket is brought up short by a body slam that leaves me panting on the hot concrete. After eying me for a moment to gauge if I'm damaged, Sam smirks at me. "Oops."

 

Chuckling, I scoot my butt into the thin slice of shade, resting against the big garage door. "Uncle already. You win."

 

Chortling, my other mom retrieves our water bottles and flops down gracefully beside me. "Strange times ahead, hmm? You all grown up and off to college."

 

The blue eyes aren't looking at me, rather staring off to some distant place towards the horizon. I can only think of being deep in that bunker, an alien bomb in my chest… and this woman coming back for me. In all these years as part of her family, I've never really found words.

 

As one long arm wraps around my shoulders and a breeze dances over us in preparation for evening, I realize something.

 

Sometimes, there need not be any words at all.


End file.
